Falling for the Rebel Falcon

In fact she knew exactly this. The shock of being mistaken for a naïve newcomer to the art of presentation sent her dizzy.

‘I guess I’m just stupid,’ she hazarded vaguely.

‘No, you’re an innocent. You’ve never learned the art of scheming. Don’t worry, I’m dishonest enough for both of us.’

‘Phew! That’s a relief. As for the wheelchair, I think we’d better stick to the truth. The hotel people know that I fell downstairs today.’

‘You’re right,’ he said gravely. ‘Rely on the truth whenever you can. It saves awkwardness later.’

She glanced up to see how seriously he was speaking, and found him looking down at her with a look of wicked conspiracy that sent a sweet tremor through her.

‘Is that experience talking?’ she asked.

‘What do you think?’

‘I think—oh, we’re here.’

The doors were opening. And there was his family gazing at the picture they made. Freya must have spread the word about finding them together, but the wheelchair took everyone by surprise. Perdita guessed that none of them would have expected to see Leonid tamely doing such a duty. They all regarded her with friendly curiosity and pressed forward to meet her as he wheeled her out.

‘This is Darius, my eldest brother,’ Leonid said. ‘And this is Marcel, who owns the tatty little shack we’re standing in.’

Everyone laughed at this way of describing the luxurious hotel, and Perdita responded, ‘I have to say that as tatty little shacks go this is the nicest I’ve ever seen.’

This brought another laugh. She was becoming a success. She won more approval when she greeted Jackson with admiring remarks about his latest television programme.

A couple had just appeared, hand in hand.

‘Travis,’ Leonid called. ‘Over here.’

The two brothers embraced and made the introductions.

‘This is Charlene,’ Travis said.

‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ Leonid told her.

‘Don’t believe all that stuff in the press,’ Travis said. ‘Nobody knows what she’s really like—except me.’

He said this with a warm look that underlined his real meaning. Charlene looked down, blushing slightly.

‘And this is Erica,’ Leonid told them.

‘Whom you’ve been keeping a big secret,’ Travis said.

‘We don’t all live in the spotlight,’ Leonid told him humorously. ‘Now, let’s go and eat.’

The family were to dine, not in the main restaurant, but in a smaller room nearby that was usually hired for private occasions. Tonight Marcel had commandeered it for himself and his family. Perdita found herself sitting next to him on one side, with Leonid on the other.

Leonid consulted her about the menu. Bearing in mind that they were putting on an act, she gave him all her attention, gazing at his face and responding fervently. When the food was served she faded gracefully into the background so that he could concentrate on his family, thus giving her the chance to study the scene unobserved.

Facing her across the table were Travis and Charlene, who seemed happily absorbed in each other. If their relationship really was a PR con trick they were hiding it splendidly.

‘You’re doing well,’ Leonid said in her ear.

‘Thank you. I’m too nervous to say anything very much.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Hmm?’

‘Somehow I can’t quite see you as nervous. A woman with your looks never has to worry about her reception. What are you professionally? No, let me guess. A model?’

‘What do you think?’ she teased.

He looked at her assessingly.

‘All right. I think you’re undercover, pretending to be an ordinary guest but actually doing something else.’

Her heart nearly stopped. ‘Whatever can you mean by that?’

‘You’re a hotel inspector, checking this place out. Perhaps I ought to warn Marcel about you.’

‘Try it. See how you look when he finds out it’s not true.’

‘All right, I give in. But I’ll get it. Just give me a little time and we’ll see who wins.’

His smile was charming with a glint of steel, and gave her a faint twinge of guilt at the way she’d wriggled out of the situation. She would never have told him an outright lie, but neither could she tell him the truth at this moment. So avoiding the question was her only option.

I’ll tell him later, she promised herself. Then I can explain, make him understand. But not just yet.

To her relief, Jackson was indulging in some foolery, enabling her to laugh and divert Leonid’s attention.

As the meal drew to a close the diners began to rise and drift out to the balcony overlooking the River Seine. Leonid and Travis stood a little apart, deep in conversation.

‘Look at them,’ Charlene said at Perdita’s elbow. ‘So like each other. It comes as a shock to see them together.’

‘He told me people often mistake him for Travis, until they get near enough to see the differences,’ Perdita said.

‘Yes, and those differences aren’t really physical. They come from inside. There’s a bit of Travis that’s a natural clown. He loves laughing at people. He even likes people laughing at him as long as that’s what he meant them to do. But Leonid has a dark, gloomy side that’s mostly the one he lets people see. At least, that’s what Travis has told me. I’ve only just met him but I can see what Travis means.’

Perdita nodded. Even a brief acquaintance with Leonid was enough for her to have sensed his dark side, and know that it was always there, overshadowing even his brief lighter moments.

‘But I dare say you know him better,’ Charlene said.

‘Some people are easier to know than others,’ Perdita hedged. ‘I’m sure you’ve found that out too. As you say, Travis is a laugh a minute, but there must be more to him than that.’

‘Oh yes.’ Charlene nodded. ‘When the press are studying you as closely as they do with him, you have to keep a part of yourself that’s just for you and your friends. Hello, what’s happened?’

A frisson had gone around the table. Heads turned to regard the tall white-haired man standing at the door.